Posts Tagged With: new puppy

Some stuff that has been going on behind the scenes whilst my mom is away:

As the more knowledgable dog in these parts, I have decided to assist Mr. Marcel and take on his buddy Farley as my Padawan (which means “student”, if the force is with you). AND, let me tell you that this is harder than I thought.

(BTW, Car-jumping is picking up as an extreme dog sport in East Africa since my debut!)

I really don’t remember being a pup, really, I don’t! They’re so, like, inexperienced and stuff. I am training Farley in the art of being DOG, which includes activities that require superior movement and agility.

Here I am at breakneck high speed during running training:

Running, full speed!

And this is Farley thinking about doing the same exercise:

Farley, not running

He just REFUSES to listen to me when I say that we need three to play rope skipping games:

Looking for a third…

This is me trying to show Farley how to point to the prey when hunting and stalking. I don’t see how his tactic works, though, because I use the front left paw as dictated by hundreds of years of evolution. I use my eyes and he sleeps using his back left paw, go figure!

Will he EVER get it?

The last lesson was playing dead, and …hold on…yes, that’s good Farley, good posture, hold the breathing a bit…DAMN IT, I think he’s sleeping already. Cheater.

Hmmm, I think he’s too good at this

After that workout, there’s only one thing left to do and that’s to train the body to sleep. Jedi dogs need their rest too!

On Monday, Mr. Marcel showed up at my house with this tiny, fluffy, ridiculous dog. He was quite young, probably about 8 weeks old by my estimation and he was crawling with insects. I took one look at him and knew that he was a Tanzanian dog and not an American dog like me. It turns out, Mr. Marcel adopted this dog so I guess I have to become friends with him. I suppose he is pretty cute for a Tanzanian dog, but I guess I’ll let you all be the judge of that.

Meeting Farley

When Farley showed up on Monday, he didn’t actually have a name yet, so mom just called him Fleabag because of the fleas crawling all over him. Mom immediately took me and Fleabag into the shower and she hosed him down and lathered him up with my puppy flea shampoo and washed the crap out of him for at least 30 minutes, but his hair was super thick (the opposite of my sleek hair) and he was so infested with fleas that some still remained. Mom also said she found some things attached to his skin, called ticks. YUCK!

After washing Farley Fleabag, under my supervision of course, she took us outside so we could get to know each other better. I chased him around to see what his playing skill-level was, and unsurprisingly, he was super uncoordinated. He was seriously falling over every other second, LAME!

Farley falling, AGAIN

But over time, this Farley Fleabag started to grow on me because he was a lot of fun to chase and he just kept playing and didn’t get tired like mom usually does. We played and played and played in the yard.

Me n’ Farley

The only thing this Fleabag had to learn was that mom was MY mom and no one else’s. Period. And I made sure that was very clear.

HEY! Get off my mom

You know how Fleabag eventually became Farley? Well, mom and Mr. Marcel were talking about how Fleabag was kind of fat, and dopey, but in a funny way like a comedian. Mom mentioned that he reminded her of Chris Farley and Mr. Marcel said that he really liked Chris Farley and then mom said that Farley would actually be a great name for a dog and that they could call Mr. Marcel’s new dog Farley Fleabag, genius! I love my mom 🙂